In the wake ofmy solemn mood, I find myself sitting at a table with one of the king’s dyre wolves and a long-forgotten fae male—a prince, my bonded—the old guardians of Haven and the true disciples of the Goddess.
Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I would end up here, at the manor housing Haven’s tyrant king.
Once he set us all up with cups of tea and bread rolls, Gideon seemed quite flippant in spilling the secrets of the kingdom. According to him, the control of the dyre wolves—him and his brother,Fenrir—are directly linked to the king’s bloodline, and there’s no way to stop the connection other than death or its creator.
“Will Fenrir be on board with the deaths of the king and prince?” The only subject he seems unwilling to discuss freely is his brother.
“The blood bond compels us to follow direct orders from the king and his blood. We cannot physically harm him, or we would’ve slain his ancestors centuries ago,” Gideon states nonchalantly, taking a sip of his tea while keeping his furrowed eyes firmly on my own.
“Are you also compelled to protect the king from imminent threats?” Rivern finally asks, flicking his gaze between me and Gideon, finally landing on me.
Through the bond, I can feel Rivern’s overall dislike of the wolf and his constant attention on me. Even with Rivern’s question, Gideon does not look away, leaving me to squirm in my seat.
“Neither of you are seen as an imminent threat to the king or the prince. If I wanted you dead, you would be among the land of souls within movements.” He finally swings his gaze around to Rivern, and the fae glares back.
The small annoyance from my bonded brings a smile to my face.I’m not the only one squirming under Gideon’s stare.
Rivern turns to me, showcasing his dimples. “Care to share, Little Dove?”
I mumble a “no” and turn to glance at the stoic wolf under my lashes.
“You still haven’t answered my question about your brother,” I say.
His sharp fingers tap along the wooden table, making tingles race down my arms. I grip my mug, waiting for his response.
“My brother is more wolf than man.” He turns away from me and eyes the flames of the furnace. “I fear in his tedium, he is leaning onhis wolf too much. He is not as forgiving. Fenrir currently wards the king.”
So many questions linger on the tip of my tongue with all this new information, but I need to understand one thing. “Why have you been so kind to me? I killed the queen.” The last words slip out without thought to the other person in the room.
Rivern stiffens beside me. “You what?” His shock rings around the room.
I glare at him to shut up. Gideon grunts, almost chuckling, “Keep up, fae. Your little Dove is vicious when she wants to be.”
I sense Rivern about to unleash on the wolf, so I grab his tensing hand from the tabletop, bringing it to rest on my thigh, covered by my own.
With that simple touch, the bond is happy, and he visibly relaxes.This bond thing will definitely take some getting used to.
I’ve never been so physical with anyone before—well,willingly. At that thought, Argus roars, setting my coals alight, and anger replaces the melancholy that is washing through my veins like an icy trough.
When I look up, both males are looking intently at me. Violet and amber swirl and clash in my mind, filling me with relief at my unease.
“Like recognises like,” Gideon growls. I incline my head, not understanding his meaning, and he elaborates. “Just because you are not a warrior does not mean you have not tasted war. Memories haunt you just the same.”
He’s talking about the past—before the temple—and I choke. My life before I was dedicated to the Goddess was all survival, a constant battle between life and death. A life where I bear both physical woundsand lacerations, long buried in a cave guarded by a dragon created by the little girl who had to grow up too fast.
Rivern grips my thigh, and I squeeze his hand, sucking the small luxury down like a desperate drunk.When have I ever received pure comfort from another being, unselfishly, purely because they don’t want to see me hurt?
Not since her.
No—I do not want to think of her right now.With the current ups and downs of my emotions, Wren will not talk to me. This has been the longest we have gone without talking since my first encounter with Cardinal.
The Wren of my childhood only sought joy and avoided desolation and anger like the plague. I couldn’t blame her, not when our beginnings were a never-ending stormy sea until it all ended. Until she met her end.
“You don’t seem more wolf than man,” I say to the concerned wolf in front of me. I do not want to be seen as weak by these men, but I can’t change my circumstances or what I’ve faced. All I can do is continue to fight and make a better Haven for the hungry children lining the steps of the manor house.
“It’s a choice, so to speak.” He stretches out his body, making the muscles ripple through his neck.This wolf has muscles everywhere.
“And you chose to retain your humanity?”
